Love In Rehab
by robinainthood
Summary: Ronnie Radke/OFC Oneshot.


"I don't remember much about the night before, but I can tell you about the morning after." I stared into the girl's eyes, focused and burning with anticipation, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like someone was actually listening to me. Her chocolate brown eyes, ones very identical to mine, stare right into my own and I feel a sense a familiarity. They're sad and dead, much like mine were not too long ago, but it seems that something about me sparks life in her once more, even if it's for just a moment.

"Okay." Her voice is small, yet I can still recognize the unique raspiness of it that I've grown to find overwhelmingly sexy.

"As soon as I woke up I had this pounding headache, and it felt like someone tied my intestines in knots. Monte shook me awake and I barfed all over his shirt." I chuckled at this, and though I didn't see, I could hear a faint chuckle out of her too. "He kept yellin', 'You're such a fuckin' scumbag, when are you gonna get your shit together?' blah blah blah. The room was spinning so much I barely paid attention, but I heard him alright. I heard him." I looked at her, watched her eyes glaze over, wondering if she was waiting for me to go on. I didn't. I had so much more to say, but she looked so zapped out of her mind, I was afraid she wasn't even listening.

She blinked, looking a little more lively, and raised an eyebrow. "That was your wake up call?" I laughed out loud. She _was_ paying attention.

" _Hell_ no. My friends kicking me out of the band and ultimately leaving me to die was my fucking wake up call." She laughed at this, and this time I saw it; a certain radiance and glow that wasn't there before. Her smile was so contagious, I couldn't help but smile too.

"You overdosed?" She asked after her laughter had subsided, becoming abruptly more serious. I noticed a redness in her cheeks that hadn't been there before that made me smile.

"And left abandoned, yeah..." Just before she could say another thing, the nurse walked into the room carrying a tray with two salami and provolone sandwiches coupled with a glass of water. She placed it on the table in the corner of the empty room and smiled at the both of us.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid it's almost curfew." I looked at Shannon, who'd been sitting in my bed for the past three hours just listening to me talk, then back at the nurse, who was standing patiently in front of the table with her arms crossed.

"Can we just have another 30 minutes, please?" Shannon spoke up, folding her hands together and pouting her lower lip. She looked so adorable, and I couldn't help but smile, unable to peel my eyes away from her. Aparo - that was the nurse - raised an eyebrow in her direction, and for a split second her eyes flicked to mine, but then she just straightened herself up and walked over the threshold.

"Forty-five minutes, love birds." She chirped before closing the door behind her. I just smirked as Shannon's cheeks grew redder. She looked up at me and smiled, and for a millisecond, I saw her eyes fall onto my lips, but they looked right back down again before I could even blink.

"That was the last fucking time." I say, carrying on our previous conversation, "I'm never going back to that shit. It's over." She nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning the room a little. She stopped at the closet, the door opened just enough to show my guitar laying in the shadows, untouched. Her head snapped back in my direction, a baffled look on her face.

"How'd you convince them to let you have that in here?" She asks, standing up for the first time in three hours and walking over to the closet.

"I'm very persuasive." She brings the guitar to the bed and sets it in between us.

"Play me something." When I place the instrument in my lap she scoots closer to me, her face so painfully close I can feel her breath when she exhales. In any normal situation, this would bother me, but right now I wouldn't ask her to move for anything.

My fingers play with the strings for a moment, searching for a tune to begin with, then decide to play a song I'd been working on for a while that never made it to the album.

The music travels through the room, dancing on the walls and sending shivers down my spine. Music has always given me chills, whether I'm just listening to it or playing it, I always tend to lose myself in the sound. I dive into my own world. For a minute I even forget Shannon's here, watching my every move, listening to the music I wrote. The music takes me away, and I mindlessly but passionately sing the lyrics I'd been working on as well. My voice waltzes with the music, heating up the room and giving me butterflies in my stomach.

When I finish, it's clear to see that she enjoyed it. That smile I love so much has reappeared, and her eyes glow with delight.

"That was... wow." She says, chuckling a bit, and I return the favor.

"Thank you, thank you very much." I jest, making her giggle once more.

"Was that about your brother?" My heart beats a little faster now, and I look down as I set the guitar against the wall beside the bed.

"Yeah." My voice becomes smaller, and I mentally slap myself for getting emotional about this again. After having overdosed and forced into rehabilitation, I see Anthony in a whole new light. Before, he was just my brother, someone like me. Now he's my brother who needs help that I can't give him, and it makes me feel a guilt that I really don't want to feel.

"Hey," I hear Shannon say softly, and suddenly her hand is on my face, her thumb stroking my cheek ever so lightly. It feels so damn good, I can't resist closing my eyes and leaning into her touch. A light moan escapes my mouth as her touch sends shivers down my neck, down my back, down my... shit.

"I want you." At first, I'm not sure which of us said it, but when I look up at Shannon, it's apparent she was the one who had said it to me. I observe her face for a second, then crash my lips into hers, immediately exploring her mouth with my tongue. She doesn't resist as she pulls me on top of her small body and leans us both back until I'm lying on top of her.

The next hour is a heated blur, a blur that makes my heart beat fast and my mind race. We're all messy hair and ruffled sheets, heavy breathing and soft moaning. When all is silent and tranquil, I stroke her soft hair, pushing it behind her ear, and look at her eyes. Hers are closed, her breathing steady and rhythmic. Her head is against my chest, her hand on my shoulder, and my arm rests on the small of her back.

Everything is still. For the first time since I've been here, I don't want to leave.


End file.
